


Tethers

by mynameisdrama



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Post Season 2 Finale, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-04-05 05:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisdrama/pseuds/mynameisdrama
Summary: This is set after Villanelle shot Eve in the season finale, and goes over what I think could happen in Season 3. Now that Eve has killed someone and is closer to Villanelle, it's Villanelle's turn to get closer to Eve so they can meet in the middle. But what is it that makes Eve and Villanelle so alike, and, yet, so different?-Sneak peaks!1. “You want to know why she rejected you?” He whispered in her ear. “You were right. You two are the same. But not exactly. Whereas you are free and alone, she’s tethered. You don’t know what love is because you've never really had it. Love, for you, comes in the form of possession, of abuse. Love, for you, comes from a dark place. But with Eve? She can be just as ruthless as you, and you can teach her how to kill and be emotionless about it, but she’s always going to be tethered. Because she’s had a family, she’s had friends, she’s had a husband. She understands what love is in a way you don’t.”2. She threw her hands up and sighed. Stupid spies. Stupid assassins. She just knew. She focking knew. Next time, I’ll do more than just stab. (...) I’ll kill her this time.





	1. Preface

She didn’t really know what she was doing there, standing near the edge of the path, overlooking the boats filled with tourists trying to get a look at Grotta Azzurra. She had travelled for almost five hours from Rome to Capri, after getting back to the car Konstantin had given her. She had blasted the radio in the car ( _“Listen to your heart there's nothing else you can do”_ ), in order to quiet her mind, but it seemed like even the radio was trying to scream at her.

She had never gone through this. Kills were just as easy and enjoyable as shopping. Slash a throat, shoot someone, run them over with a truck, buy a puffy dress or a pinstriped suit. Easy. Familiar.

And she hadn’t even shot Eve to kill her. She aimed where she knew it wouldn’t be lethal. Also, she was sure someone would have found her or she would have been able to get away and get help. It was not like Eve had _died_. She was sure of it. Eve had just… why couldn’t she see it? That they belonged together?

_“If you can see I'm the one who understands you. Been here all along so why can't you see: you belong with me.”_

_“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Taylor Swift fan.”_

Villanelle turned around. A man was standing there on the path behind her, the one that led to the hotel she was currently staying. She could tell from the way he said “you” that he must have come from Northern England, probably close to Scotland, even though he was masking it behind a RP accent. He also looked like a spy taken from a novel, with the long overcoat, regardless of how hot it was in Italy, that covered part of his face and in whose pockets he hid his hands. The fedora tipped forward finished the cliche look and she had to scoff.

 _“I guess you wouldn’t have heard about her in a 50s spy novel.”_

She hid her Russian accent behind an Italian one. She didn’t know why exactly she was hiding or from whom, since Eve, _damn her_ , had killed Raymond. But ever since she got to Capri, she had become someone else. She had gotten a bob haircut and died her hair dark brown. The giant sunglasses helped hide half of her face, and the scarf, _Eve’s scarf_ , hid the other. She had even settled for a simple white button up and brown slacks that ended just shy of her calves. The beige mocassins finished off her look, all brown and white, blending in easily in the crowd of tourists and the rocky background.

 _“Oh, you think I’m a spy?”_ She could hear the smirk in his voice, but remained still while he took a couple of steps in her direction.

She raised an eyebrow. He laughed.

 _“Very well. Might as well stop with the charade. I was never one for it, anyway. Carolyn was always better at this use of banter and disguise as subterfuge. I always preferred to get right to the point. Cleaner that way, don’t you think?”_

He took off the hat, gave it a dirty look, and tossed it over the edge, into the sea. The coat was shed just as quickly and she could tell he was relieved to get rid of it in this heat. She still didn’t say anything, but put one hand in her pocket, where she kept a knife. So he was MI6, _interesting_.

She smiled sweetly, while giving him a confused look. _What, I think we’d… You think we’d be what? Bonnie and Clyde?_

_“Who’s Carolyn?”_

_“I thought we wouldn’t use subterfuge anymore.”_ He came closer and stood a couple of feet away. She gripped the knife tighter, but remained still, her mask in place.

He stared at her, trying to read her, and sighed after a few seconds, looking away at the sea. The Mediterranean Sea around Grotta Azzurra was of the clearest and most beautiful blues she had ever seen. It all but sparkled when the sun hit it just right and you could see right through it, to the floor. It was no wonder tourists swarmed this little island off the Italian coast near Naples and got on overfilled tiny boats just to get a glimpse of the Grotta. She was tired of Italy though and its dust filled everything. Everything was dusty and old and moldy and filled with ruins and shattered hopes and dreams. _What do you want for dinner? Tonight I could make dinner._

_“I know you loved her.”_

Her mask slipped and her face contorted in a pain she didn’t fully understand. _Eve hadn’t wanted to be with her_. It took her only a second to get herself back together, but she could see it was enough for him to have seen. She moved fast. In an instant, she took the knife out of her pocket, closed the distance between them, and pressed it to his throat. He didn’t even flinch; just kept staring at her.

 _“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_ She snarled. _“I have never loved anyone.”_

He didn’t say anything, but she felt some pressure between her ribs that she recognised as the tip of a knife. He smiled charmingly at her.

_“Not in the way she knew how to love, you didn’t. But in your own way, you did.”_

She pressed the knife harder. So did he. A minute passed and they just started at each other. She could see that he was calm and she wondered if it was a bluff or if he was really just calm. She had never felt fear in this situations, either, not even when Raymond was choking the life out of her. She didn’t fear death, she was its harbinger. _You love me. No._ That was the only moment she felt something that she thought people consider as fear. Eve didn’t love her. Or, at least, Eve didn’t accept that she loved her. But why? They were the same. Eve should love her. Eve should want her. Villanelle knew she did. Why didn’t she just… embrace it? What was it about Villanelle that was that bad that Eve wouldn’t want her? Well… If Eve didn’t want her, then it was _her_ loss.

_“She does love you, you know.”_

She groaned and let go of the knife, turning back towards the sea. This was Amsterdam all over again. She could feel the prickling behind her eyes. She couldn’t believe she was crying _again_. Because of stupid Eve. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

_“If you don’t run away, I can help you.”_

She turned around swinging, but he just leaned back out of her reach, making her stumble and almost fall, had it not been for him holding her from her back, his arms hooked under her armpits, his hands clasped behind her head.

 _“You want to know why she rejected you?”_ He whispered in her ear. _“You were right. You two are the same. But not exactly. Whereas you are free and alone, she’s tethered. You don’t know what love is because you've never really had it. Love, for you, comes in the form of possession, of abuse. Love, for you, comes from a dark place. But with Eve? She can be just as ruthless as you, and you can teach her how to kill and be emotionless about it, but she’s always going to be tethered. Because she’s had a family, she’s had friends, she’s had a husband. She understands what love is in a way you don’t.”_

 _“Let me go!”_ She started thrashing against him. This was too much, she felt like drowning. She could feel the waves coming harder and harder against her, knocking her down, not letting her breath. She growled and reach her hands back trying to get to his throat or his eyes, but he didn’t seem to care.

_“But when Konstantin gave you the car so you could runaway-”_

_“When he stabbed me in the back and betrayed me!”_

_“He wanted his family back, you can hardly blame him. You’re not his family.”_

_“But I thought I was his friend!”_

_“Don’t fool yourself, Villanelle.”_

She stepped on his foot once, twice, three times. As hard as she could, but he still didn’t budge.

_“He said your family was dead. ‘Most of them’ he said. Don’t you want to know what he meant by that?”_

_“What’s the point?”_

Maybe elbowing in the ribs or stomach would do it.

_“Think about it. You can be tethered too. It was not just about making her more like you. You have to be more like her, too. You have to meet in the middle. Don’t you want Eve?”_

She stopped thrashing, but he still held her for a minute, to see if she would try something stupid. When he seemed to think she wasn’t going to runaway, he let go of her. She fell ungraciously, she was ashamed to say, to the ground. He kneeled next to her.

_“Why do you care?”_

_“If you come with me I can explain all of it. There isn’t a reason we can’t have this conversation in a more comfortable place.”_

She thought about it. She didn’t really have much to lose, did she? Meeting Eve only exacerbated her feelings of loneliness. No one ever wanted to watch a movie with her. Or let her make dinner for them. Even all the sex she had had since then had been boring. She could pretend all she wanted that they were Eve. She could even call them Eve. But they weren’t _stupid, stubborn Eve_. And who knows. Maybe if she seemed interested in him, he would let his guard down, and then she could kill him. Killing always helped, even if just a little bit.

She shrugged. _“Okay, I’ll go with you.”_

He smiled (his smiles were starting to creep her out), and got up, offering her a helping hand. _“Excellent, I know a great place.”_


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start this chapter, a few notes:
> 
> 1\. I don't remember a lot of Villanelle's backstory in Season 1. And I haven't read the books. I did try to look it up online, but no one seems to know what happened to her as a child. Her story apparently only starts with the whole mess with the teacher and prison. So, I'm sticking with what I had originally planned.
> 
> 2\. Again, still no editor, so mistakes are mine. Every once in a while, I read it through again, even after I post it, and fix some more, but, you know, be patient with me.
> 
> 3\. I don't speak Italian. Shame on me. I'm Italian and I don't speak a single word of it. I speak English, Portuguese, Spanish, French, and German. But no Italian. Really shame on me. So the Italian in this chapter comes from Google Translate. Please forgive me if I have butchered it.
> 
> 4\. I can't promise chapters twice a day. Not even daily. But I'm obsessed with Killing Eve and this story in my head, so I will update fairly often.
> 
> 5\. I also think that, based on Villanelle's singing on Season 2 (in the car with Konstantin, then in Rome), she uses songs to express what she's thinking. So, I've been using a lot of lyrics in italics. And I would love if you guys figured it out.
> 
> 6\. Reviews are more than welcome. Thank you for reading and sharing your time with me.

The restaurant wasn’t far away from the edge overlooking Grotta Azzurra and they managed to get there in five minutes by foot. But before she got up to follow the MI6 agent, Villanelle had managed to discreetly pocket her knife again. If he had a knife, she’d better hold on to hers.

While they walked, she had also managed to steal a few glances of him, trying to size him up. He looked to be about her age, maybe one or two years older, with a lithe build, but a bit taller than she was. She already knew, from their small scuff earlier, that, while he didn’t look buffed up, he was still quite strong. His pale skin was the colour of a crab and his brown hair looked a bit dry because of the sun, so she guessed he must have been in Capri for a while. He looked a bit less uncomfortable after shedding the long coat and fedora, but the dark blue pants and the light blue long sleeved button up still looked stuffy (if still gradient fashionable). And, as soon as they started walking, he folded up the sleeved of his shirt.

 _“So,”_ she had started a minute after they had started walking _“you’re MI6.”_ She had decided to drop the fake Italian accent. It was getting on her nerves anyway.

_“Officially, yes.”_

She’d raised an eyebrow. _“And unofficially?”_

He’d let out a small laugh. _“Not The Twelve. Don’t worry.”_

That had seemed to satisfy her and she had just shrugged. She’d figured MI6 would be less likely to kill her, since they didn’t particularly enjoy getting their hands dirty. Villanelle, after all had been manipulated by Carolyn and Konstantin to do their dirty job of killing Aaron Peel. So, they had walked the rest of the way in silence, the only sounds being the crash of the waves down the cliff, and Villanelle’s humming. _I’ll leave you breathless or with a nasty scar_. She’d touched the spot where Eve had stabbed her.

Once they had reached the restaurant, he had gone straight to a table on a varanda, overlooking the Mediterranean sea. It was a truly breathtaking sight, but Villanelle pretended to be unimpressed. He’d pulled a chair so she could sit, and she’d sat, with a huff and a puff, on the opposite chair.

 _“They have some marvellous pasta with seafood here. From what I understand, you’re quite fond of spaghetti.”_ He folded his hands together on the table and smiled his creepy little smile at her again. _Spaghetti? Good idea._

 _“I want a lasagna.”_ He chuckled, but called the waiter.

_“Buon pomeriggio, signore. Vorresti ordinare ora?”_

_“Sì, grazie. Mi piacerebbe i fettucini con gamberetti e la signorina vorrebbe una lasagna. Con salsa di pomodoro in più.”_ The waiter looked quickly at Villanelle, slouched in her chair, the sunglasses still covering half her face, playing with the cutlery on the table. _“E per favore porta dell'acqua e il tuo miglior vino.”_

_“Perfetto, signore.”_

After the waiter had left, the MI6 agent just turned to look at the sea, as if Villanelle wasn’t even there. This little game that he was playing was starting to annoy her and she wanted to know how he knew some many things about her. For a long time she had prided herself on being a ghost, but ever since Eve had gotten in her way, it seemed that MI6 was always all over her business. It didn’t help that Konstantin was in bed literally and figuratively with Carolyn. But, still, she didn’t want to seem impatient or worried. She had to appear cool and detached, like nothing mattered to her. _Nothing really matters. Nothing really matters… to me._

Finally he turned to look back at her. _“Don’t you want to ask about Eve?”_

She stopped fiddling with the fork. _“Why would I?”_

_“You shot her after she rejected you.”_

She took off her sunglasses and leaned over the table in his direction, dropping her voice to almost a whisper. _“See, what I really wanna know is how you know that and all the rest you know about me.”_

_“No Eve?”_

She scoffed and leaned back on her chair, looking at the sea. _“She doesn’t care about me.”_

Silence. The waiter came back with two glasses of water and a bottle of wine. He made a spectacle of showing the MI6 agent the bottle, so he could see it was the house’s best, and then opened the bottle, pouring a little bit in another glass he had brought and giving it to the agent to approve. But the latter kept looking at Villanelle and just signed that the waiter could pour the wine and leave.

 _“You know that’s not true.”_ He said in a softer tone. _“She did try to help you in that dreadful situation in Rome. She was just as manipulated by Carolyn as you were by Konstantin.”_

_“And how are you going to try to manipulate me now, uh?”_

He smiled and took a sip of water. _“That’s where your family comes in.”_

 _“My family is dead. They’re all dead. I don’t have anyone.”_ Villanelle crossed her arms in front of her chest, slouching even more in her chair.

 _“I get you’re defensive about it.”_ And at her dirty look, he help up his hands and added. _“It’s obvious from your body language. Arms crossed in front of you, almost being swallowed by your chair. A distrustful child would behave the same way.”_

She rolled her eyes.

 _“Anyway, like I said. I much prefer to get to the point than to beat around the bush with vague comments that hardly seem pertinent, even though they’re somewhat humorous. That’s Carolyn’s specialty. You see, you have a half sister. She’s fifteen older than you, and she’s your father’s daughter. Her mother died a couple of years after her birth, and he got together with your mother. But right after you were born, before you were even a year old, some men were sent to kill him. He apparently had brought on himself the wrath of some very powerful men in Russia. We don’t know much about it, only that it involved the Americans. They killed everyone, but your sister managed to sneak away, taking you with her. Shortly after, the Americans found both of you, but figured it was too dangerous to keep you two together. So you were sent to an orphanage while she was offered a deal: help the Americans and get a new life in America. Needless to say, she took it. They gave her a new name, even a new face and memories, and hid her away.”_ He raised an eyebrow to show he wasn’t impressed and took another sip of his water.

Villanelle had stayed silent while he told the story of a woman that was supposed to be her half sister. Even as he was telling it, she didn’t feel any excitement that she apparently had a sister, nor any resentment for being abandoned. She didn’t even feel angry at the father that had gotten himself killed and left them without anyone. She didn’t feel anything at all, but there was a spark of something and it was about… _Eve, it’s always about damn Eve_. She didn’t remotely care about the sister, but he had said something earlier that had stayed with her: Eve had tethers, while she didn’t. What if she used this woman as her tether? Would Eve want her then?

She changed her expression to appear interested and hopeful. _“And where is she?”_

He smirked. _“She lives in Alaska. The Americans figured the Russians wouldn’t look to close to home, and I guess they were right. She is married and has three kids.”_

 _“If the Russians couldn’t find her, then how could you?”_ She squinted her eyes at him, pretending to be suspicious of his story. In truth, she didn’t care if the woman was her real sister or not, or even if she actually had a sister. She could work with what he was giving her. And she felt he knew it too.

 _“I’m just good at my job.”_ He shrugged. _“The Russians lost interest in her anyway.”_

_“And what is your interest in her? And how does it involve me?”_

_“We need the information she told the Americans.”_

_“Can’t you just ask? You know, nicely?”_ She gave him a coy smile and touched the edge of the knife on the table. He didn’t seem to mind it at all. He actually found it funny.

_“It wouldn’t matter. They managed to erase her memories. We need someone to jog them. That’s where you come in.”_

_“You think maybe she would remember the sister she abandoned, is that it?”_

He shrugged. _“Who knows. Maybe.”_

Villanelle just stared at him. Something in this story was fishy. Why would he go through all the trouble to track her down and let her know he knew a lot about her and about Eve, only to attempt something that he didn’t even know would work?

 _“You’re suspicious.”_ She raised both eyebrows and rolled her eyes. _Duh_. He sighed. _“I’m not trying to manipulate you like Carolyn and Konstantin did. This is the mission I was given and there isn’t another way to go about it, even if this way doesn’t seem that reliable. Also,”_ He lowered his voice _“I want to mess with Carolyn. We have some…”_ He made some gestures with his hands. _“bad blood between us.”_

She grabbed a hold of her fork, holding it upright, with its dents facing the table. She could stab him in a swift move.

 _“Carolyn’s clean up crew found Eve. Well, technically, I found her, but since I wasn’t supposed to be there, I made sure they found her. So,”_ He cleared his throat _“Carolyn has Eve.”_

He moved his hand to grab her hand that was holding the fork. She tried to pull away from the contact, but he held it steadfast.

 _“Eve isn’t safe.”_ She pulled away harder. He held tighter. _“Don’t you see? I need you to go and save her.”_

_“I shot her, why would I save her?”_

_“Because you lover her.”_ He let go of her hand and sighed. _“Look, what I’m offering here is pretty simple. I help you, you help me. You get together with your sister, I get the information I want, and you get the girl.”_

 _“This sounds way too easy. I’m not stupid.”_ It did sound way too easy. And nothing with Eve was easy. Villanelle thought that by killing Raymond, _easy_ , Eve would realise that they belonged together. It was supposed to be easy. And, yet, _oh look what you made me do, look what you made me do_.

 _“It’s not.”_ In a swift and surprising move, he took away the fork in her hand and placed it just on top of it. He stared intently at it. _“I could very well just stab you. Right here, right now. I very much want to stab you because you’re being so dense and stupid. And I’m sure that if Eve were in my shoes, she’d want to stab you, too.”_ He let out a little laugh. _“Well, she did stab you.”_ He pressed the fork deeper against the back of her hand. It was starting to leave a mark. _“It’s not easy, I can tell you that. But I need you to do something for me, and you want something that I can help you with. So it’s a trade. And, in the end, if we don’t end up killing one another, we might just get what we want.”_ He looked at her and smiled. _“And, trust me, I will kill you if you get in my way.”_

He dropped the fork right before the waiter appeared with the food. The MI6 agent was back to being nice and gentle.

_“Grazie.”_

_“You’re not the first one to try to kill me, you know.”_ Villanelle said after the waiter left. _“Not even, like, the tenth. I’m not scared of you.”_ She laughed and started poking her lasagna with the fork, stabbing it repeatedly.

He seemed to think about it. _“That’s foolish of you. But I guess that’s on you. It’s your life to gamble with. But what about Eve’s?”_ He swirled some pasta around his fork and stabbed a little shrimp before eating it.

_“I told you I don’t care about her.”_

_“Then I guess I can proceed to dispose of her.”_

She almost choked. _“Dispose of her?”_

_“I told you. Carolyn has her.”_

_“So? Carolyn wouldn’t kill her.”_

_“Oh, but I would.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because Eve is tangled in this mess. Carolyn used her to get what she wanted. First, to deal with the Russians and Konstantin and you. Then, to capture the Ghost. And afterwards to get you to kill Aaron Peel. Eve didn’t leave a paper trail because Carolyn didn’t give her paperwork. So, in the official eyes of the MI6, she doesn’t exist. That’s all nice and pretty for Carolyn because then she doesn’t have to take responsibility for Peel’s death. Or you. Or Konstantin. But a death of a civilian that apparently had nothing to do with MI6 but that still knew a lot about secret MI6 operations, while she was being guarded by an MI6 agent… That’s not pretty.”_

Villanelle was still confused. She hated these spy games. Why couldn’t they just be straight forward and kill whoever they had to kill, or whatever it was that they did. She never really bothered to know why she was killing whoever The Twelve sent her to kill. It didn’t matter. She got them killed, she got money, she got clothes, she was happy. Well, not really happy, but… _ugh_.

_“Carolyn is in my way and I would like her out of it. I either remove her by delivering something better than what she has, or I destroy her. The choice is now yours.”_

She could just get up and leave and let them deal with that whole mess. As she once told Eve, she liked her, but she didn’t like her that much. _I love you. No. I do. You’re mine._ Eve was hers. Hers.

 _“You can have everything you want.”_ She looked at him. _“Yes, even Eve.”_

She took another bite of her lasagna and chewed it slowly. She had also once told Eve all she wanted was a normal life. And Eve had to go and ruin it for her because now she couldn’t envision a normal life that didn’t involve Eve and stupid Shepard pies. Eve understood her. Eve knew how to deal with her better than anyone else. Konstantin had been the only other one, but he had just used her. Eve, on the other hand, had rushed in to save her twice, even though Villanelle had manipulated her those two times. _Oops_.

She swallowed and nodded her head. Eve was hers, after all. _“Fine. I’ll do what you want. But you have to get Eve from Carolyn first.”_

He smiled and raised his wine glass to cheer. _“Worry not. Everything is already well on its way.”_

She just shrugged and raised her glass to his. _“I still don’t know your name.”_

He clinked their glasses. _“You can call me George.”_


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couples of notes:
> 
> 1\. I'd like to thank, beforehand, all the hits, kudos, and comments. It means a lot to me that people are sharing their time with me and enjoying my work.
> 
> 2\. If anyone would like to reach me, I'm @ghmess on Tumblr.
> 
> 3\. Look, I get Villanelle. Kinda bad to say this, but I have a lot in common with Villanelle. Well, not the killing, but I do get the nonsense, the sarcasm, the mimicking of feelings... But Eve. Man, Eve was hard. Because I keep thinking of her as Cristina from Grey's Anatomy (for those who don't know, that's who Sandra Oh played in Grey's Anatomy). Even Carolyn and Kenny are easier to write. Eve? She's a Cristina that's a bit more psycho. And as much as I loved Cristina (she was my favourite character), I always resonated more with Meredith. 
> 
> 4\. Nevertheless, I made this chapter a bit longer. I like to cut my chapters according to scene breaks, but the scenes in this were just too short. 
> 
> 5\. So, I hope you guys like this and, as always, reviews and criticism are always welcome. 
> 
> 6\. And, again, I don't have an editor, so mistakes are all mine.

Everything had been black for a long while. Sometimes it would get a bit yellowish, like the sun trying to shine behind black curtains, but it wouldn’t last long; the sun had never managed to actually shine through. But each time, the yellow had gotten stronger. She just hadn’t known how much time had passed between those times.

Sometimes, when the yellow had turned a bit pinkish, she swore she could see shapes and hear voices. Most times, it had looked and sounded like Niko and… Bill. Once she even swore she had seen them sitting around the table in their kitchen, laughing and having a beer. Which was impossible, she had known, Niko didn’t fancy Bill all that much.

_“You spend more time with Bill than you do at home, do you know that, Eve?”_

_“You know I don’t really work regular hours, Niko. And, well… it’s not like you have to be worried about anything.”_

_“Eve… Just because he’s gay, it doesn’t mean there’s nothing to worry about.”_

_“Then I don’t know what you mean.”_

_“Well-“_

_“And don’t be a dick about it.”_

_“Sometimes I think you married me because it was… the boring thing to do.”_

_“What- wait, Niko. What does that even mean?”_

_“I don’t know, Eve. You tell me.”_

_“I obviously can’t tell you because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”_

_“Then I guess it doesn’t matter.”_

_“Just stop talking in riddles.”_

_“I just… I just can’t tell you what you’re not ready to figure out by yourself yet.”_

It had been odd that she had had that conversation with Niko. Because they had never had it. Niko was never this direct in his approach of their relationship. He would never say their marriage was the boring thing to do. It wasn’t boring _to him_. He was perfectly content in going to work at the school, come home, watch telly, hang out with his Polish community, play bingo or whatever, have missionary sex…

 _God, that is so boring_.

How had she managed to stay married with him for so long without actually acknowledging that she was bored? _Out of her mind with boredom._

_What do you want? Honestly. Don’t be a dick about it._

_Normal stuff. A nice life. Cool flat. Fun job. Someone to watch movies with._

She had normal stuff, a nice life, a cool flat, a fun job, someone to watch movies with. Yeah. She had family, she had friends, she had a nice house, her MI5-turned-6 was a pretty fun job, she had Niko with whom she watched movies. _Ugh, Niko._

Maybe Niko was right. Maybe she had married him because it was the boring thing to do. Not because having the life she had or getting settled was boring, but because _he_ was boring. He had never challenged her. He had never fulfilled her. He had never enticed her. Sure, he was stable and secure, but she was _so bored_. She could have settled and had a live. Carolyn had a life and a son. Okay, she was weird about it, and poor Kenny took the brunt of it. But Konstantin also had a family, that he wasn’t weird about. Sure, they were threatened a couple of times, but they were _fine_. Mostly fine. And, honestly, no one would never be perfect. Niko was safe and secure, but he was boring. Carolyn and Konstantin were exciting, but not very safe. Well, Kenny had never really been threatened or anything (not that she knew), so maybe it was about picking your sides and your battles. _Konstantin was obviously on the wrong side. Which was Carolyn’s sometimes… Ugh._

All she knew was Niko was right. But not for the right reasons. There was no point anymore in fighting against it or denying it. She had married Niko because he was boring and because he would ground her. That’s what he was to her: someone that would not let her go off doing crazy things.

_Are you behaving differently, doing things that you normally wouldn’t?_

_Yes._

She had killed someone. And funny enough, in this yellowish darkness, that thought wasn’t that painful. Yeah, she had killed someone, but she had to kill him. She wouldn’t have had if he hadn’t tried to kill them first. She even said she was sorry! And she had tried to push that man in the tube, but she hadn’t. She had been horrified when the lady was pushed in front of the truck. She felt sick when they had to torture the Ghost. But she wasn’t sorry Aaron Peel died. Sure, it caused that whole mess afterwards, but hadn’t he deserved it?

So maybe Niko was right and she had married him because he was boring. But she had needed boring. She had lived a boring life in America before. Metting Bill and joining MI5 was a stir of excitement, she had to counterbalance it or she would lose herself. Cue Niko. He had been what she needed, he had been the one to ground her, he had been the one to help her stay _normal_ in a new life she had very few… _tethers_.

In order for her to be Eve, she had needed Niko.

_Do you feel unsafe?_

_Yeah._

_How else do you feel… right now?_

_I feel… wide awake._

-/-

_“Oh, good. You’re awake.”_

_What. The. Fudge. Who the fork made everything so bright?_ Eve shielded her eyes from the offensive bright light that poured in from the open window. After floating such a long time in darkness, this excessive amount of light was torture. She tried to turn away, but felt an obscene pain on her side. Her hands moved to the spot to press and cradle it, only for the light to attack her again. _Ugh, why is life such a pain?_

 _“Take that light away from me.”_ She pressed her eyelids hard together. _Maybe I should just gauge my eyes out, that would fix it._

 _“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen, Eve. The sun is almost down anyway.”_ Nevertheless, Carolyn moved to the windows and closed the curtains again a bit. _“There. Is that better?”_ She sounded like she couldn’t care less, but felt like it was better to appease the annoying brat, lest she threw an incredibly unreasonable tantrum.

Eve opened her eyes and saw Carolyn standing there, in her usual beige overcoat, white button up, and brown slacks. She was also sporting the apparently only expression she could have on her face and that Eve couldn’t even begin to describe it. Was it indifference? Sarcasm? Boredom? Was she high? And she always had a funny quip about something that usually had nothing to do with anything whatsoever.

_I once saw a rat drink from a can of Coke there. Both hands. Extraordinary._

_What the fiddlesticks._

Carolyn moved towards the bed and sat down at the opposite end, right on the edge. Seemed to Eve she was trying to imprint her presence there as little as possible. _Well, she wasn’t supposed to be in Italy. Wait-_

_“Where am I?”_

_“Hospital.”_

_Ugh._ Eve took a deep breath. Her head was starting to hurt.

_“Yes. I know. Hospital where?”_

_“London.”_

_London? What the frick frack?_

_“Let me stop you right there, Eve, otherwise we’re going to be stuck here for a long time with your questions. Kenny found you. Didn’t tell me how.”_ She added when Eve had opened her mouth again. _“You are really awful at just listening, aren’t you? Anyway, he found you, we brought you over to London covertly since it was clear you were alive.”_

Eve scoffed. _“Since it was clear I was alive? Had I been dead you’d just leave me there?”_

Carolyn didn’t even bat an eye. _“Yes.”_ Actually… That didn’t surprise Eve at all.

_“I did tell you that you’d be by yourself if you didn’t leave with me.”_

Eve nodded. _“Fair.”_ She tilted her head in confusion. _“Why bring me to a hospital though?”_

Carolyn sighed and looked away, appearing quite annoyed. She uttered a single word, and Eve had to strain her ears to hear it. It really didn’t help the pounding in her head.

_“Kenny.”_

Well, that didn’t help at all. Ever since she had sacked Kenny, Eve had been carrying with her this sense of guilt. He had been on her team since the beginning and he was, quite frankly, invaluable, and she knew it. He was smart and, albeit a bit weird, he was always spot on on his assessments. It was just… Some of those assessments just really annoyed the hell out of her. Because sometimes they were right, _but also so wrong. For reasons._ That weren’t important at the moment.

But he had tried to warn her about the Rome operation and she had just… It wasn’t just at that moment, though. She had been like that, impulsive, reckless, madly driven, since all of this started. And now she was a bit angry that Kenny had tried to help her so many times (and had saved her life), because it had only proven him right and her wrong and, _for crying out loud_ , she was past reason. All she wanted was to get lost in the fire, and not feel guilty that someone was trying to save her. She deserved to burn. _Let me burn, goddammit._

_“What happens now?”_

_“You rest and get better.”_

Talking to Carolyn was infuriating. Spies and their subtext and reading between the lines and unspoken exchanges.

_“Yes, but am I-“_

_“No.”_ Carolyn got up. _“You’re not fired. But you don’t work for me anymore. Someone else put in a specific request for you.”_

Eve looked at her confused. Jess had told her that there was no paper trail leading to Eve. As far as MI6 was concerned, Eve was a ghost. _Ugh, ‘ghost’, of course._ Then how had someone requested her? Carolyn just stared impassively at her though. _Spy stare, stupid spy stare._

_“Don’t you know who it is?”_

Carolyn just raised her eyebrow and shrugged, moving to get her things. She didn’t care. Eve was out of her hands now. Not her problem. She moved to the door, but turned back one last time.

 _“I reckon you’ll receive some sort of information presently.”_ She gave Eve one of those ‘white people smiles’. _That is, I guess, some sort of consolation._ Eve nodded, and Carolyn left.

She had been gone for a couple of minutes, before Eve stopped staring at the empty space and sighed, dropping her head back on her pillow. She pressed her hands against her eyes and groaned. _This is such a mess._

There was a knock on the door frame, even though the door was still open. Eve didn’t bother looking at whoever it was. She just didn’t care anymore. Especially if it was Kenny. She really didn’t want to see Kenny right now. Or Hugo. Or Jess. She didn’t want to have to explain the unexplainable. Why did she run away? Why didn’t she go with Carolyn? Why did she trust blindly that an assassin wouldn’t leave her? Or that an assassin wouldn’t _kill_ her? What the freck was wrong with her? Maybe she should go see Martin as soon as she left here. _This honestly can’t get any worse._

_“Miss Polastri. Your food is here.”_

She opened her eyes and looked at the orderly, carrying a tray of what looked to be disgusting food. She couldn’t even smell it and she was already feeling sick. She just waved for him to leave the food anywhere and lied down again, her back facing the door. She heard him setting down the tray and leaving, closing the door behind him.

And it was only when she was about to close her eyes to try to sleep away the headache that she did realise it could, indeed, get worse. She had forgotten about Niko.

-/-

She stayed in hospital for a couple of days more. Nobody came to visit her, though. Absolutely no one, not even Niko. And, after his absence the first day, she decided she was way too proud to ask about him. _Maybe he was having too much missionary fun with Gemma._

But, on her last day, after a doctor explained to her (in depth, and for way too long) how she was supposed to take care of her wound, when she was collecting her things, which consisted, mostly, of her wallet and watch (God knows what happened to her bags back in the hotel in Rome), someone showed up. She was expecting anyone really, but it still surprised her when she saw it was Kenny.

He didn’t bother knocking and went straight into her room, stopping a foot away from her. _“Mum can’t know about this.”_ He whispered.

She squinted at him. _“Why?”_

_“I’m working with someone else and I was specifically ordered not to share information with her.”_

_“Is that someone else the someone who requested me also specifically?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Honestly, what was up with this family and insufficient answers?_ She cocked her head at him, prompting him to go on.

_“I can’t say anymore in here. I’m supposed to take you to a safe house and you’ll be briefed there.”_

She sighed. _“I need to go home first, get some clothes.”_

 _“There’s not necessary. Clothes have been arranged for you.”_ That brought back memories. _“Also, you can’t go home.”_

She scoffed. _“And why, tell me, wouldn’t I be able to go to my own home?”_

_“It’s under investigation.”_

She threw her hands up. _“Why? I was under the impression that everything that happened in Rome was cleaned up and covered up, in the Carolyn way of things.”_

He just stood there, motionless, in his black polo shirt with orange horses on it, light beige shorts, black ankle high socks, and grey vans. If he hadn’t been so good at his job, she would find it a terrible joke to make this _teenager_ an MI6 agent.

_“It isn’t because of you.”_

_Not because of me? Then what the freckles?_ She got closer to him. _“Kenny, tell me why my house is under investigation.”_

He gulped. _“I- I don’t really know.”_

 _“Kenny…”_ She got even closer.

_You want me to be scared. But I’m like you now._

_“I really don’t know. I just know that-”_ He swallowed and looked away. _“Niko was arrested and they’re going through-”_

She laughed because it was ludicrous. _“Niko? Arrested?”_ She walked away from him and then turned back, still laughing. She bent and put her hands on her knees. Her side started to hurt from the laughter. _“Niko? Seriously?”_ He nodded. _“Why?”_

_“He killed someone.”_

_“He killed-”_ She stopped. _No._ She just collected her things and left the room, walking past the nurses desk, to the lift. It took Kenny a couple of moments to realise that she had left, and then he followed after her.

_“Eve, where are you going?”_

She didn’t pay him attention. Where was she going? Where did he think? At that point, he had reached her. The lift was still coming up. _“Eve, you can’t go home.”_

She turned abruptly towards him, making him stumble backwards a bit. _“Why, Kenny? It’s my house. My husband was arrested for murder!”_ She laughed and some people turned to look at her at her loud tone. She didn’t care. But she lowered her voice. _“He was arrested for murder. Him. When he couldn’t have hurt a fly. Niko. Missionary vanilla Niko.”_ Kenny made a confused face at that. _“And me, I’m fine. I’m here.” When it should have been me._

_“If you go, we can’t protect you.”_

_“Protect me from what? I wasn’t even in England.”_

He gave her a pointed look. _“Yes- no, you weren’t. But they don’t know that. We- I cleaned up Rome, Eve. It’s like you’d never left.”_

She just stared at him, blinking her eyes fast and repeatedly. Nothing made much sense. Her head was back to pounding like construction work. And she was so tired of this _fracking_ mess. She pressed her eyes shut tight and put her hand on her forehead.

_“Just come with me and everything will be explained and we can divise a plan of action.”_

She threw her hands up and sighed. Stupid spies. Stupid assassins. She just knew. She _focking_ knew. _Next time, I’ll do more than just stab._

 _“Fine, whatever.”_ The lift opened its door. _“Come on, quick, move it, Kenny.”_ They stepped into the lift, him a little bit far away from her. The other people that were also waiting, didn’t get in. She rolled her eyes. _I’ll kill her this time._


	4. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry for how long it took to post this chapter. And I'm even more sorry that it might take a bit for the next ones. I will try to post a new one every weekend, but work has been a bit hectic. It should get better soon though. 
> 
> If anyone wants to reach me, I'm @ghmess on Tumblr. I'd love to have some feedback or just talk. Also, whenever I write a Villanelle chapter, I always wonder if you guys are identifying the songs. 
> 
> As always, feedback is always welcome. Thank you for reading.
> 
> PS.: I'm posting this chapter as soon as I finished writing it because I hate that it took so long, so I haven't really reviewed it.

She had to be quiet. Really quiet. Hidden in the dark, barely a shadow moving. More invisible than a ninja. She also had a more worthy cause. So, she had taken off her shoes and was tiptoeing around, careful not to make any sound whatsoever.

She opened the little door and looked around. No one had seen her. She shoved her hand inside and felt around for a bit until it hooked around a good enough handle. She pulled it out quietly, shushing the bag while bringing it down. It would just have to be quiet.

Crouching down, she opened it and fumbled her hand around until it connected to some wires. She pulled them out and scowled, scrunching her eyebrows and rolling her eyes. _Who still uses an iPod?_ But she put the headphones in her ears anyway and pressed play.

_I can’t stop this feeling deep inside of me. Girl, you just don’t realise what you do to me. When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything’s alright._

She silently threw her head back and mouthed the words. _Iiiiiiiiiiii’m hooked on a feeling. I’m high on believing. That you’re in love with me._

Holding fast to the bag, she stood up and tiptoed a little bit forwards, opening another little door. _Keep it up girl, yeah, you turn me on_. She got another bag, and put the other one inside, sucking on her lips, but smiling. The music changed.

_Baby, you were so strong. Baby you were calm, you were so calm, yeah. Tell me where it went wrong. Tell me how to love, it’s been so long._

Feeling the smoothness of the song, she quietly slid towards another little door. But someone was coming her way, so she took out the iPod and pretended to be looking at it and singing along while casually walking.

_You’re only looking for attention. You only notice it ‘cause I’m never around. You’re only looking for attention. The only problem is you’ll never get enough._

_“Excuse me, miss. You shouldn’t be walking around.”_

She looked up and pretended to be confused. _“Oh, I’m only going to the bathroom.”_ She gave the other woman a little smile, but she saw her eyes go towards the bag in her hands and the iPod. _“It’s that time of month…”_ She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. Pretending to look around, the put a hand over her mouth and quietly said. _“Shark week. Pads.”_ While holding up the bag and shrugging.

The woman blushed a bit and nodded. _“Well, okay, yes. Hmm. Don’t take too long though, the sign in on.”_ And she pointed to the little green sign.

 _“Don’t worry, I won’t. I’ll just grab what I need, put the bag back and head to the bathroom.”_ She opened another little door and put the bag inside. The other woman was already moving along, checking on other people. So, she grabbed another bag and went towards the bathroom. She didn’t have to, but this song currently playing was making her feel like Amsterdam all over again. But without the drugs this time. _Pity._

_You were insecure, but I was so sure. But I wanted you. Yes, I’m powerful, and a little girl. But I wanted you. So I told you so, wanted you to know. We’ve just one life to live._

She opened the door and got in the tiny, cramped, smelly bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.

_You’re mine, for life. And I’ll be by your side. We are entwined. You’re mine for life. Hold me until we die. I’m yours and you are mine._

She touched her face, stretched the skin at the sides, touched the barely visible bags under her eyes, ran her hands through her hair. She was so beautiful. So irresistible. She ran her index finger over the mascara trail down her right eye. A mess. A gorgeous mess.

_It was summer when I saw your face. Looked like a teenage runaway. And God, I never thought we’d take it that far. Some killer queen you are._

She smiled at herself and banged her head to the beat of the music, mouthing the words.

_And now I’m running and I can’t stop anywhere I go. I think about it everyday and night, I can’t let go. Man, I’m never the same. We were shotgun lovers, I was shotgun running away._

She could feel the beat getting in her bones, and she closed her eyes, letting it wash over her. She let her body move by itself, her hair whipping around her head, left and right, her hands closed into fists, punching the air, her feet twisting and quick stepping.

_I’m jealous, I’m overzealous. When I’m down, I get real down. When I’m high, I don’t come down. I get angry, baby, believe me. I could love you just like that and I could leave you just this fast._

She put her hands on the sink, propping herself up, holding tight, her reflection looking back at her with crazy hair, rundown mascara, wide eyes, tilted smile. She had loved Eve just that fast. Just one look in a bathroom and she was sold. Eve was the only thing she could think about. Everything was about Eve. Her kills were for Eve. Her eyes could only see Eve. She gave her body to countless Eves (even though they were only Eve in her head).

_‘Cause I got issues, but you got ‘em too. So give ‘em all to me and I’ll give mine to you. Bask in the glory of all our problems. ‘Cause we got the kind of love it takes to solve ‘em. Yeah, I got issues, and one of them is how bad I need you._

It took one look for her to know Eve was just like her. A piece of her that she didn’t even know was missing. One look and everything shifted, like someone had put a fish lens over her eyes and increased the colours and the temperature of everything. It all looked more vivid when Eve was the focus. It all… felt _stuff_ when Eve was there.

But George had said she needed _tethers_. She made a face and even then she looked breath taking. She couldn’t understand it, though. She had literally gone through the trouble of getting _rid_ of Eve’s tethers. First Bill, then Niko… The mess in Rome had probably cost Eve her career. Honestly, what else did that woman have that she didn’t? A mom, a dad, some distant relative she probably didn’t care at all? _Pfff who cares?_

If Eve didn’t want to be hers, then that was her loss. She was gorgeous, young, funny, amazing, sexy. The fact Eve had those lustrous full curls didn’t mean she was the only one in the world. Just because the world came to a stop and her vision narrowed when Eve was there, it didn’t mean that she was special. She wasn’t. _Sorry to disappoint._

She heard a loud bang and a male voice rang angrily. _“Hey, are you going to take long? There’s a line waiting to use the bathroom!”_

She rolled her eyes. It was impossible to get a moment of peace without killing anyone. _“Don’t twist your panties, I’m coming out.”_

She opened the door to see an angry fat man, red in the face, clearly offended. _Men get offended so easily…_ _“What? Are your panties lodged in your butt?”_

_“I don’t wear panties.”_

She looked at him, head to toes and clicked her tongue, raising her eyebrows. _“Could have fooled me.”_

And she moved away from him before he could say anything. Unfortunately there was a line to the bathroom, so she couldn’t really mess with any of the small compartments anymore. _Bummer_. Instead, she went to sit back in her seat, sprawled out, arms over the armrest, head lolling to the side.

 _This is so boring._ The agent next to her didn’t even move his eyes from his book, but she moved her head to look at him. Dark skinned, shaved head, a stupid soul patch, heavy build. He looked like a locker. She pursed her lips. _I could still take him._

When he still hadn’t paid her any attention, she moved to snap the book out of his hands, only to have hers slapped away before she could even touch the cover.

_“Don’t even think about it.”_

She made an innocent face. _“Ooooh, such a deep voice.”_ She tried to move her hands, touch his lips, but he slapped her again. She pretended to be hurt, clutching her hand to her chest. _“Ow, that hurts. You’re mean.”_

_“Don’t think I didn’t see you messing with those people’s luggages.”_

She opened her eyes wide. She had really thought she had been sneaky. Even the stewardesses hadn’t notice anything and they were hawks.

_“And what you’re going to do about it?”_

He didn’t even look up from his book. _“Did you mess with my luggage?”_

She shook her head. _“No.”_

_“Then it doesn’t concern me, does it?”_

She smiled. _“Would you like to watch them get confused when we land?”_

Finally, he looked up from his book to stare at her. His face was unreadable, though. Much like with George, she found it really difficult to read what they were thinking. It had been a gamble every poking she had done at them, testing the waters to see how much she could push. And she still had no clue where their breaking point lied.

She saw the corner of his lip curl up millimetrically before he turned back to his book. Sometimes she could appreciate spies and their silences. Sometimes it was just the right touch.

-/-

 _“Wasn’t it funny to see those people accusing one another of being thieves?”_ She scrunched her face with a smile. Besides her, the agent kept walking, not looking at her. But she could see his lips were turned up in a small smile.

_“You were lucky we were seated next to the front exit.”_

She shrugged and twirled around while she walked. _“So where are we going?”_

 _“To the hotel.”_ He still hadn’t looked at her.

She pouted. _“George said I was allowed to go shopping so I can get whatever I need.”_

He sighed, but kept walking. _“Yes, you are. But we’re going to the hotel first.”_

She stopped dead in her tracks and put her hands on her hips. He had taken a few steps before he noticed she wasn’t beside him and turned back.

_“What are you doing?”_

She stomped her foot. He closed his eyes while he took a deep breath. _“We are going to the hotel.”_

She stomped her foot again. _“I’ve been stuck in a tin box for 19 hours.”_

He moved closer to her. _“Exactly. We need rest and to get rid of jetlag.”_

_“That’s what shopping is for.”_

_“You can shop after we’re settled. This is not up for discussion.”_

She squinted at him, cocked her head a bit to the side, and spoke in a childish voice. _“Do you need to check with mommy? Tell her that you’ve arrived safe and sound?”_ She went to pinch his cheek. _“That you’re a big-“_

He grabbed hold of her hand and twisted it a bit. She could tell it wasn’t meant to really hurt her, only grab her attention. But she didn’t care, anyway. He wasn’t going to break her hand. He wasn’t as scary as George. She knew George would have stabbed her in the restaurant that day if he felt it was needed. _Hell, he would even do it because he had simply wanted to._ And _that_ she could respect. _That_ was one of the reasons she had agreed to this stupid mission (but largely because of Eve, even if she _didn’t_ care about Eve at all). She was curious and she wanted to understand how George worked.

 _“Don’t play games with me.”_ He stared at her and she blew raspberries at his face, pulling her hand back in a swift movement.

 _“You don’t scare me.”_ She said, while moving her hands to mess with his tie. He moved his hands to grab her, but she was quicker in tightening the cloth around his throat. _“I know George didn’t send you to keep an eye on me and keep me in check. He didn’t even send you to report to him or to make sure the mission goes on.”_ She kept tightening the tie, even though he was grabbing her wrists, trying to get free. _“Wanna know why he sent you with me?”_ She leaned in to whisper in his ear. _“To see if I was going to kill you.”_

She knew George didn’t care at all if she killed the agent. She had a feeling he might even approve of it, and he probably had some backup agents stashed somewhere else to watch her. Anyway, she knew _this_ agent was disposable. She had seen it in his eyes: no darkness, no ruthlessness. He could act mean and tough, but he was a softy. And, now, seeing the horror look on his face mixed up with begging, she knew could easily kill him, even though it would have been a boring death.

So she just pulled back enough to be able to look at his face and said _“I’m going shopping.”_

He gulped and nodded. She released him, took a step back, and fixed his tie, all the while with a fake big smile on her face.

 _“There you go, dear. All fixed up.”_ She said in a posh accent. Giving his cheek a pinch and a couple of slaps, she moved past him, going towards the sign that said “exit”.

_“Come along. Someone needs to carry those bags.”_

-/-

She loved shopping. Absolutely loved the feeling of going somewhere and getting the best of everything they had to offer. Some people might say she was over compensating. Some of the therapists Konstantine made her see definitely had said so. And if she was, what of it? She was constantly moving, killing, and being other people. It’s not like she could settle down and stop needing to over compensate.

For example, she was now in Alaska, which had been her plan after she had seen Raymond’s ugly face on Aaron’s computer. Just run away to Alaska, where The Twelve wouldn’t find her. _Too damn cold._ Only… Her plan was to run away with Eve and Eve didn’t want to. Didn’t want her. She could offer the woman everything she could have ever wanted: an exciting life, lavishing clothes, crazy amount of actually good sex (in many positions), someone that was actually gorgeous and not just a moustache on some fudge…

But Eve… She could feel the anger boiling up. She wasn’t lying to George when she said she didn’t care about Eve anymore. _She didn’t want to._ Eve always made sure to put her in the place she thought she should be: a thing. A psychopath. A killer. An assassin. Something she had to chase and catch. Never just Villanelle. Never just a person. Even when Eve had wanted to know about her past and her life, it was all for profiling.

Sure, there had been sexual tension. _I mean, come on, I am gorgeous. I have sexual tension with everyone._ But, in the end, Eve hadn’t wanted her. She loved the thrill of the chase and the excitement Villanelle brought to her life, but Villanelle was the asset. Eve was the normal person (married to the fudge), while Villanelle was the psychopath. She scoffed. Even though she had pushed Eve to the brink by manipulating her to kill Raymond, Eve still wasn’t ready to just be.

It would be funny to watch Eve trying to fit back in her life. There was no turning back from killing someone the brutal way she had, chopping off bits of Raymond. And there was the matter of Niko and Gemma. Well, if Eve didn’t want her, then she could very well see how awful her life would be without her. And then if she came crawling back to Villanelle, well… she’d take her back; she wasn’t a monster after all.

_“If you liked that dress, I could get you a size small for you to try on, ma’am.”_

She turned towards the voice, whose owner was a somewhat lanky woman, with long legs and long arms, probably on her 30s. After decades in America, there seemed to be no remnant of a foreign accent. But she could see the honey coloured roots already peaking from under the dyed brown hair and, even from this distance, she could tell the brown eyes were a fake contact lenses colour. _How amateurish._

She smiled. George had been right when he said, with a smirk on his face, right before he dropped her off at her gate at the airport, that she might enjoy getting to know her sister. What else could be more fun than shopping with your older sister?

_Hmmm, maybe killing her._

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are always welcome!
> 
> Obs.: this work in unedited, so all the mistakes are mine. I'm also looking for an editor, if anyone wants the "job".


End file.
